#rhythm: freedom dive

[tsunagite]

Late night xi Rhythms doodle

[elizi--s]

i am dying over here trying to make a teto freedom dive cover like honestly this is killing me i keep missing notes 😭and it takes 50 seconds to actually hear it lol (skip to 0:52 to get past the loading screen)

[thesillyexpresser]

Hey I was listening to Freedom Dive, the average rhythm gamer’s national anthem, and vibed to it so much that I made this. ☁️ ✨

[datchscursedblog]

[protosomething]

anyways.

[bushmasterxm]

On July 27th too, what are the odds.

[harmonysanreads]

hello <3

wishing you freedom and happiness from academic hell before diving in. you opened requests so 👉👈

forgive me if this counts as idea stealing since you posted about it but yan! neuvillette with a darling who wants to file for divorce would be such a messy situation. court proceedings go to him now that the oratrice is no longer functioning. how do you expect to win against the law of the land?

filing divorce in a different land also isn't an option, because it is written in your marriage contract that you cannot leave fontaine without your husband and he sure as hell isn't going to come with you for something like this

oh well.

Jeux de Vagues

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Neuvillette x [ Gender Neutral ] Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Implications of forced marriage, Captivity, Slight dehumanization, Coercion, Fontaine archon quest act one spoilers, Old married couple bickering (literally)

「 words : 3k 」 「 Trivia for Jeux de Vagues 」 「 read on ao3 」

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hiii Zuri!! I have been brainrotting this fic since version 4.0 so thank you so much for just giving me the opportunity to unleash it lol. For plot reasons this takes place between act 1 and 2. I dedicate this fic to all the anons who brain-rotted with me and kept me motivated to think about neuvillette with their creative asks<3

“Husband, I wish for a divorce.”

In Spring, the snow of the bygone winter thaws and raises the tides. They twirl to the edges of the shores ; push and pull, back and forth, mesmerizing the nation of Hydro with their temptatious dance.

You wonder what it'd take to entice the waves to your direction, to have the power to make them rage and placate. When one desires to control something great, they see its reflection upon mundane things — just as you envision yourself dictating the tides upon cups of dainty porcelain, noon to evening and midnight to dawn — your spoon conducts its rhythm.

In Summer, the waters boil and vaporize upon the touch of sunlight to reach the heavens and complete the cycle. Just as wisps of steaming tea tantalize their way upwards from cups and tea pots. Beyond that translucent veil stares back a pair of watchful eyes, undecipherable are their emotions and primordial their age.

“The tides of time heed no one's orders or pleas. Very well, mon trésor, let us begin this trial.”

You're quick to catch the hint and slow to react, deliberate and relaxed as you bring the rim of the cup to your lips. The tea scathes your lips and paints your tongue bitter, bitter, bitter — a smile stretches across your tingling lips, deeming the liquid's taste adequate to your present temperament.

You are bitter, not because of the contents of this ‘trial’ but, due to the delay of it. You've been crossing days after days from heaps of calendars, preparing all your accusations and aligning evidence to back up your claims for this chance only comes once every fin de siècle.

“I heard your justice machine broke?” a ‘clang’ accompanies the tea cup meeting the saucer. You focus on the chirping of birds and the noises of crystal flies buzzing past instead of the possible damage done by your words.

You hear it, the swell of rising waves before they pacify with a purposeful cough. You don't let the event’s lamentable duration plunder your motivation, more precisely, you take it as a good start.

“Calling it broken is quite the stretch. You and I both know that the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale—”

You swat a hand and the waves placate completely, sans any questions or any other brewing feelings. “I'm quite aware of what it's called, husband.” ‘I just could not care less’ goes unsaid.

You point your finger towards the Iudex of Fontaine, “You,” then return it back to yourself, “and I, both know the purpose of me bringing that incident up in our private trial.”

No amount of sensory loss would render someone ignorant of the mockery of your words. You bite the inside of your cheek in a lazy attempt to suppress a smirk, times like this really make you regret not having the privilege to face off against Neuvillette in the Court of this land ; you're quite sure your most recent stunt would earn you many bewildered gasps. If only the gates of your husband's manor crashed down, perhaps incapacitating him in the process for good measure.

“...Yes, we do. Your intention is to insinuate the impending prophecy and learn how we plan to prevent or battle it.”

Neuvillette's words resemble velvet in the manner they roll off his tongue, you catch his gaze drifting towards the chalice to his left, from where his reflection returns his stare. There are many tales passed among melusines of the equanimity practiced by your husband in even the most dire situations. But you have seen the depths of the ocean, where its secrets are forever concealed by an ever stretching darkness.

“Correct,” you affirm.

“Unfortunately, mon trésor, our investigations have not yet reached a decisive conclusion. While I can guarantee you that we'll do our utmost in the face of the prophecy, I cannot yet give you the specific details. Besides, this information is quite... arbitrary to our ‘trial’.”

The ocean returns your scrutiny, threatening to yank your breath away to that unknown darkness. You watch the ripples along its surface, wondering and devising plots to uproot the ocean's schemes from your safe space.

You want to tear through that ataraxia and illuminate those depths for all to see its hideous secrets — so that your claims will no longer be deemed senseless.

“Well, you could try acting the part of the Iudex first.” you exhibit great interest in your nails.

“Apologies, mon trésor. The trial is now in session.”

The most preposterous trial there ever was, in fact ; spectated by cups of tea and plates of desserts, overlooked by the jury of birds and bees under the naked skies and one stubborn ‘judge’ to lay down the final verdict — who was also the accused in question.

It'd be more fitting to call this some courtroom version of playing house and you wonder if Neuvillette sees it as exactly this ; since the notion of normal matrimonial life flies past his head.

You swallow your profound irritation at his nonchalance and that prickling soft gaze, the calm of the ocean surface is just a facade, you remind yourself.

“O honorable Chief Justice of Fontaine, riddle me of what I must do with my husband. He sees fit to cage me down while preaching justice simultaneously and allows me not to indulge in ‘rudimentary interactions’ with any other life forms. Do you not think that such hypocrisy is utterly ridiculous?”

Your hand cradles your heart, fully embracing the spirit of a mistreated spouse. Neuvillette regards it with an almost comical graveness, nodding as though he understands. Had it not been for the situation, you would've marveled at how willingly he's playing along with this fiasco.

A gloved hand stretches out to you in suggestion, “Perhaps it's because your husband just worries too much for your well-being?”

Your right eye twitches, “I’ve made it acutely obvious to him that I'm far from a toddler in need of constant supervision.”

The Iudex smiles succinctly, “I’m sure that he's not ignorant of that fact. But if, as you say, your husband guards you with such determination that you're not allowed to interact with any other forms of living organisms besides himself, it means that you hold great value to him.”

You cross your arms petulantly, it's not that you're forbidden from talking with everyone, many of Neuvillette's most trusted melusines do come to add flickers of color to your otherwise bleak existence sporadically.

You're grateful for their kindness and brief companionship but, this small leeway does not outweigh the rest of your husband's misdeeds. Your eyes flicker to the patient eyes of the man separated by one small oak table, barely suppressing a scowl at his serene composure.

You despise it when he acts like the raw image of propriety, of an ideal husband ; so withdrawn from the covetous creature that he actually is — because it poses you as a lunatic, a lunatic who demands separation from what the rest of society perceives as perfection and debilitates all of your claims.

The more you think about it, the more frustrated you get — you don't want to let frustration consume you, you don't want to lose this one opportunity for freedom. Your nails dig into the sleeves of your apparel as your mind scrambles to search for more accusations.

Why did you want a divorce again?

You control your erratic breaths forcefully, “Well, I don't feel safe in Fontaine anymore. A deadly prophecy is at our door and with no solution in sight. I'd much prefer to relocate to someplace with less volatile weather, like Liyue or Mondstadt.”

Neuvillette tilts his head, “Ah, you want to go on a vacation, am I correct? To be honest, I've been entertaining the thought of traveling to the other nations with you by my side for quite a while. Though, things being the way as they're now, that is not possible. I can promise you that after everything has been settled, we will go on a journey together, mon trésor.”

This time you don't bother to conceal your disbelief, of course he focuses on the part that most serves him and twists the narrative to further enrich his fantasies! You bite your tongue back from yelling that you don't want a vacation, you want freedom from these suffocating high walls of marble. You don't just want freedom from Neuvillette, you want freedom from this cursed nation and it's solely Neuvillette's fault you were unable to do so with your kin five hundred years ago.

“Fontaine will face diplomatic and political consequences soon. Because you threw that Harbinger of Sumeru—”

“Sneznaya, mon trésor.”

“—I know that. My point is that we might face backlash from the Fatui in our vulnerable state and who knows? Fontaine might just collapse as a nation! I don't want to stay in a city like this.”

You freeze at the sigh that escapes Neuvillette's lips, you've been probing and digging for a normal human reaction from this man for a while, but at the instance that he actually gives it, you cannot help but find it jarring.

“Fontaine will not collapse from something as trivial as diplomatic pressure from the Fatui. Even though the prophecy looms above our heads, there are many factions that are actively working towards prevention. And even if Fontaine were to be drowned tomorrow, I have faith that not all of the citizens will be dissolved and you would always be my first priority. As for that Sneznayan Harbinger… we've merely followed the Court's protocols. If we did indeed convict him of crimes he did not commit, we'll most certainly compensate him to the fullest extent allowed by the law.”

For a transient eternity, all that echoed throughout the garden of the Chief Justice were the chirping of birds. Your mind carefully assesses the words from moments ago, searching for even a modicum of dishonesty.

You watch the Iudex's unfettered gaze, at last giving a glimpse of the tumults raging beneath the pretentious still surface. You can hear the swelling of waves again, albeit not for the purpose to engulf but, with the determination to protect.

You'd recognize that look on Neuvillette's face even in your (unlikely) deathbed, the causation of your bafflement though is that, this is the first time you've seen it appear in correlation to something other than yourself.

Your right hand idly smoothes your garbs and your left grips the wooden handle of your seat, you find both of your palms drenched in sweat upon contact.

“You’ve gone soft, ______”

You blankly admit in your semi-dazed state and it's Neuvillette's turn to take a deep breath. It's been a while since you've spoken that name aloud, the one that is only permitted to be uttered by you in private ambiances such as this and which serves as the origin for this clandestine marriage.

For some reason you cannot quite comprehend — especially since your husband does not seem to suffer from it — your memory enjoys having a love-hate relationship with you. From what you recall at this instance, the last time you called the Iudex by his true name was when he gifted you this garden. Its utterance is so rare that even the bearer is rendered speechless each time.

Neuvillette copies your previous antics and pastes it onto the current situation with a prolonged look-over of your person, “Your apparel today suits you most exquisitely, mon trésor.”

You answer with a gracious eye-roll, “Don’t change the subject.”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine straightens his posture with a somewhat bashful chuckle, the afternoon sun's soft hues make the ivory strands of his hair sparkle. “Apologies, I've been meaning to compliment your appearance, not that it is ever short of radiant — I just could not find a suitable opening.”

You submit to the urge to slouch ever so slightly with a sigh, “You don't have to apologize for every little thing, you know?”

“Apologi—” Neuvillette corrects himself with a cough concealed by his fist, you watch with intrigue as soft coral dusts his pale cheeks.

“As for your ‘question’, I will admit that throughout my coexistence with humans as Fontaine's Iudex, I've come to appreciate their ideals, characteristics and interpersonal relationships. In a way, I've understood myself to a great extent through observing them. Just as you wished I would.”

You furrow your brows in genuine confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your husband seems to steel himself for something, hands intertwined atop the oak table and eyes drained from his earlier playful light all too quickly. “You’ve always wished to become human. To view this world through the eyes of a mortal, to be able to have a taste of their myriad and complex relationships and... to die alongside someone you truly love.”

Somewhere in the crevices of your archaic mind, there's a vacuum hidden beneath the symphony of sea waves. Unchanging, uncharted and unperturbed by your attempts to identify what used to occupy that space.

Neuvillette's cryptic admission creates a crack on what you assumed to be an empty spot occupied by white noise, the cleft dents your memories and spreads, a raucous scream threatens to rupture your eardrums.

“Are you, perhaps,” your fingers clasp onto the silk of your garb, “insinuating that you've granted me my ‘wish’?”

If you had gathered the strength to look up, you would've been blessed with the sight of the Iudex thrown off-guard. But the lapse in composure is short lived, “Of course.”

Something about his easy confirmation annihilates your decorum and replaces it with a rage of unknown origin, “So you think imprisoning me has made me happy? That it's made me feel human? That your kindness and preachings of justice have bewitched me so much that I've considered you as a lover for even a second? No, no and no! I have never and will never stop hating you, ______!”

But why do you hate him? Your thoughts echo back to you ; he's ensured you never have to ask for a meal, he's clothed you, he's provided a solid roof above your head and he's given you his heart — or at least that's what he says.

For not once does a memory that he's mistreated you arise in your head but, what does bubble in your heart is an inexplicable hatred. A hatred so grave that it motivates you to not surrender to this unfair trial, contemptuous waves swell, rise to heights unseen, crash down—

“Do not forget that abandoned property belongs to whoever finds it first.”

And drag everything to the ocean's dark depths.

A jolt shakes your whole body, your eyes rise to meet the tempest in disbelief and suddenly, the dam shatters. Now you can see the serpent leering behind the charming flower, an unrestricted view of what the fair and ideal Iudex is inside those glimmering garbs of honor — a dragon with manicured claws and perfumed scales, seated to a chair of judgement yet, forever guilty of a sin he refuses to purge.

Only you remember that Neuvillette wasn't always like this ; in days not noted down in history he'd been an enigma, unsure of the significance of his existence, burning with contempt for the so-called Usurpers and sometimes cruel. But at least, he wasn't a hypocrite.

He'd dug his talons deep into your heart and skin and engraved his name within your soul, he'd defiled the waters that construct your being with hatred and malice but at least, he hadn't refused to acknowledge that it was him who shackled you to this godforsaken nation, separated from the rest of your kin.

Neuvillette takes a deep breath upon noticing your erratic trembling, the tsunami recedes. “It always ends like this,”

It does. This excuse of a trial with your freedom as the wager, born of your husband's ironic belief of justice, that you should still be given a chance to speak up against iniquity. He'll take great note of any other issues that might cause you distress, but the actual concern will never be addressed — that's how it's been for five centuries.

It is the kind of judge that Neuvillette has become in matters that concern you, finding loopholes to keep you attached to his name yet hidden from prying eyes ; all because of his principle that having a public personal relationship will bring the impartiality of the judiciary system to question.

“However, it must be done to ensure your safety.” you tense as he rises from his seat, gloved fingers trace the silk table cloth.

The grass crunches beneath his heel, “For who knows what the public's reaction would be if it was to be leaked, that the Iudex Neuvillette's spouse was the progenitor of the prophecy?”

You feel the familiar texture of Neuvillette's glove supporting your face, wiping the cascading tears that escaped without your notice. “Do you not remember, mon trésor, that you need me?”

Your vision blurs and all you see is blue, his blue or yours, your mind refuses to confirm. But what it does corroborate are Neuvillette's words, that you would not survive without his care, that you are the first who had wished to become human and that you are the first sinner.

You feel his touch more firmly this time, it's not warm like all the other times ; but soothing and sedating. As though, a cavity within your soul was given meaning and a portion of your memories hidden away. Your eyes are defeated against the temptation of slumber, but before the darkness engulfs you, you vividly hear the rumbling of an ensuing storm, the first of many tears of the sky hitting your skin.

“I suppose this must be my punishment. But, I would rather prefer being the recipient of your scorn and contempt than to not have you at all.”

But why go through such lengths? Neuvillette's conscience asks as he takes your limp body in his arms, the sound of heavy rain follows his footsteps back towards your shared ‘home’.

To this, he consoles himself : the words unspoken are the flower.

[uravitsy]

‘BLESSED BE THE FRUIT’ RYOMEN SUKUNA

summary. sukuna finally answers your prayers, ready to give you anything you desire for just a small price in return. ☆

warnings. breedingkink!trueform!sukuna (though he doesn’t have two dicks in this ???), virgin!fem!reader, dirty talk, rough/forceful sex, talk of pregnancy, biblical references, a bit of mythology (?), angst if you squint, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, porn with plot, tw!coercion, you and sukuna are fucking in a temple, this is kinda long and barely edited

a/n. this was loosely inspired by eurydice and hades, if you know you know. i enjoyed diving deeper into some darker topics and exploring sukuna with a breeding kink.

Cloaked in the dim glow of candlelight, you knelt before a modest altar adorned with symbols of the underworld. Your eyes, reflecting a blend of sorrow and determination, were fixed upon an ancient relic representing Sukuna, god of the realm below. With clasped hands and a voice filled with quiet strength, you uttered fervent prayers, seeking solace and sanctuary within the hidden temple. The flickering shadows danced in rhythm to your whispered pleas, creating an atmosphere of otherworldly reverence.

“Please," you whispered, lowering your head beneath the flickering candlelight, the shadows emphasizing the pain in your eyes. "Hear my prayer, Lord Sukuna. Bathe me in all your glory and breathe life into my every desire."

Dealing with the gods was dangerous, a fact you were well aware of, but what other choice did you have? In a world where women were mere possessions, you refused to succumb to a fate of being bartered off like livestock. Each day, you faced the prospect of being presented to suitors—elderly men whose former wives had long since died. It was a fate you couldn't accept. You aspired for more than to become someone's wife; you desired to etch your name into history, to be remembered for more than just a marital tie.

Frustrated by societal expectations, you turned to Lord Sukuna, a deity with a tale that resonated with your own struggles. The legends spoke of his fall from grace, a narrative both pitied and condemned.

"Grant me freedom, the freedom to shape my own destiny, and I shall offer you my body and soul," you implored, slowly disrobing despite the inner warning that this was a dangerous gamble.

As the storm outside intensified, a deafening roar of thunder filled the temple. Startled, you leaped from the cold stone floor as a serpent came before you, its scales brushing against your bare skin. Panic set in, and you screamed, frantically kicking the reptile away.

Your realization of your actions heightened as you hastily covered your exposed body with the silk gown. Ready to leave the temple in disappointment, a chilling voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I come to answer your prayers," the tall figure announced, and as you turned to look, it became apparent he was no ordinary man. With multiple eyes and a visage both unsettling and captivating, it was clear before he spoke that this was Lord Sukuna. Though you recognized him from forbidden stories and images, seeing him in person left you awestruck. The deity towered over you, his appearance more otherworldly than any depiction you had encountered.

"And yet you kick me upon first glance," he snarled, and you dropped to your knees in a bow, pleading for forgiveness.

Yet, Sukuna's response was not what you expected. Swiftly, he materialized behind you, his voice close to your ear, taunting and chilling. As you nervously explained your choice to invoke him, he laughed dismissively, questioning the value of mortal offerings. The encounter with the King of Curses had just begun, leaving you on edge and uncertain of the consequences of your plea.

"Please forgive me, my lord," you uttered, head still bowed, as you sensed Sukuna leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "I-"

"You, you, you," Sukuna mocked, his tone dripping with disdain. "It's always something you mortals want. I came from my duties to answer your cries for freedom. Was not giving you humans free will enough?"

"I don't have free will or control of my own life," you confessed, glancing over your shoulder to meet Sukuna's gaze. "That is why I called upon you."

With an amused expression, Sukuna suggested drastic solutions, his words making you uneasy. "You could run away, or better yet, kill yourself and give your soul fully to me." You looked down, unable to deny the truth in his words. "Oh, but you won't do that, will you? You mortals always want everything but won't give anything in return."

In response, you steeled yourself, determined to offer what you could. "I can offer you my body and my soul," you declared, a glint of determination in your eyes. "That is all I have to offer."

Sukuna, ancient and seemingly indifferent, stretched his arms with a chuckle. "I am older than the Earth and the Sun itself. I have countless souls and have slept with goddesses.” He tapped his chin with a shake of his head, “No, no, I'm going to need something… more. Something that will weigh on your heart."

Your frown deepened, "Then what do you want?"

"A sacrifice," Sukuna replied, his voice holding a mysterious gravity, leaving you to contemplate the implications of the request. The encounter with the god took a dark turn as the demand for a sacrifice hinted at the potential cost of seeking divine intervention. The weight of your decision began to settle in, and the true nature of the pact you were considering became clearer.

"Sacrifice?" you repeated, the word hanging in the air, leaving you breathless. The realization hit you hard – you were in way over your head. Gambling with the Gods always came with a hefty price.

Sukuna grinned wickedly down at you before revealing his unsettling request. "I am in need of a woman, a woman to carry something very special to me." His fingertips danced across your back, sending a shiver down your spine. "For I need to taint a virgin to birth my son."

The weight of his words sank in, and you instinctively brought your hand to your stomach. "My firstborn child?" Your words echoed in your ears.

"That child would belong to the Gods, to me. It wouldn't be yours," Sukuna explained coldly.

"But I would carry him as my own."

"You'd be nothing but a mere vessel," Sukuna pressed his hand against yours, his black nails digging into your skin. "Do this one task, and I shall ravish you in wealth and power."

The internal struggle reflected in your expression, but Sukuna cut off your thoughts. "I don't have all day, (y/n)." His touch sent shudders through you. Sukuna laughed, his gaze roving over your body as if you were nothing but a piece of meat. "Do you accept?"

Caught in the web of your own desires, you hesitated. Sukuna, the King of Curses, already knew your answer before you spoke it. Your words were trapped in your throat as he continued undressing you. The silk gown you were being discarded, pooling around your ankles. The vulnerability of the moment made it clear how little agency you truly had.

"I accept," you finally whispered, turning around in his arms, ready to submit yourself to him. "I will give you a son."

Little did you know the depths of the consequences this pact would unleash. As you willingly embraced the bargain, you couldn't fathom the entanglement of your fate with the God of death. The journey ahead would prove more treacherous than you could have ever imagined, and the true cost of your decision was yet to unfold.

“Then let’s get to the fun part shall we?”

You had to admit that this wasn’t how you imagined losing your virginity. You thought it would be the traditional way, on your wedding night against a plush feathered stuff bed but clearly the universe had other plans for you. Your body felt as if it was on fire under Sukuna’s gaze, your legs spread apart for him to see you and all your naked glory.

“Look at you, so ripe and ready to be plucked,” Sukuna grins, “I should warn you that I am not the gentle type.”

“I can handle you,” You tell him with a new found confidence.

“Oh?” Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his long slender fingers glide up along your wet folds, “Don’t get too cocky, little lamb.”

You winced in slight pain, his finger entering you up to his knuckles. Sukuna didn’t even give you time to adjust before he started fucking you with his finger, a glob of spit leaving his mouth and on to your naked cunt to get you more lubricated and to make the dry feeling less uncomfortable.

Once his finger could slide into you with ease he added another, his eyes never leaving your face so he could watch your every expression. You tried to bite back your moan, not wanting him to know that that pain you felt now turned into something that was pleasurable. It started off as a faint feeling inside your lower abdomen but it grew, and it had your legs shaking slightly from ecstasy, “Lord S-Sukuna..”

“What was that?” Sukuna pretended not to hear you, “I can’t hear you over the lewd sounds your pussy is making, dove, you got to speak up.”

“Ah!” You tossed your head back at the sudden feeling of Sukuna’s warm tongue on your pussy, it was long and felt a little rough but its warmth had you become a quivering mess. It was all a new sensation, something that the books don’t tell you— that sex can actually feel better if you had a somewhat relationship with the person you’re being intimate with. It was different with you though because you hardly knew Sukuna and yet it was if you’ve known him for years.

“Sukuna..” you moaned his name, the sound bouncing off the temple walls. That pit of pleasure only growing, something that was foreign and seemed forbidden to chase, “I—This feeling—Ah!”

“What a cute virgin you are,” Sukuna’s tongue was exceptionally long as he toyed with your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves as he spoke, “You’re the perfect woman to be filled with my cum.”

“M’gonna..” your legs began to tremble at the pleasure, your chest rising and falling as that wave inside you intensified. You were now being fucked with three fingers, Sukuna enjoyed the sight of your pussy sucking his large fingers in as if your body was specifically made for him, his own cock hardening underneath his kimono.

That wave inside you crashed, your orgasm falling over you, leaving your body involuntarily shaking at that overwhelming feeling of pleasure. Sukuna helped you through your release, his fingers quickly replaced by his thick cock that he slowly moved up and down your soaked folds, teasingly rubbing his swollen tip along your clit.

Your eyes widened at his size, you were sure that he was half the size of your arm. It was intimidating to say the least but what did you expect from one of the Gods? “You’re so big..”

“Aren’t you observant?” Sukuna teased, before taking ahold your legs in his large hands, with a snap of his fingers he materialized a pillow to rest beneath you, giving you a bit more comfort than the stone floor. You thought the gesture was sweet, making you realize that just maybe there was something warm brewing inside his cold, black heart.

Though those thoughts quickly faded as you watched him press your legs forward, your knees against your chest. You were fully exposed to him and unable to move, his fingertips dug into your soft plush thighs with such force you were sure it would leave a mark come morning.

“Now open up for me.” without warning, Sukuna thrusted inside you to the hilt, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. To say that you felt as though you were splitting in two was an understatement. It felt as though something ripped inside you, the pain was so instant that you tried to struggle away from his grasp but to no avail. Tears fell from your eyes as you bit down on your bottom lip so harshly to the point where it drew blood. Sukuna was your only source of leverage as he began to pound you against the temple floor. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your muffled moans was tuned out by the roaring storm still ensuing outside.

“Look at that little dove,” Sukuna groans at the sight of your small frame taking in his large cock, the thin trail of blood sliding down his veiny length almost sending him into a frenzy, “You aren’t a virgin anymore.”

“Sukuna…please..” Sukuna felt pity for you, for he knew this was no easy task, sleeping with a God— especially since he could be so cruel. To ease the pain, Sukuna opened his mouth on his stomach so his tongue could be free, lapping at your sensitive bundle of nerves yet again as he moved his other two free hands to fondle at your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipples to invoke more pleasure than pain. He knew his goal succeeded when your whimpers quickly turned into soft moans, your glossy eyes looking up at him with such reckless abandon.

“Is that better? I feel you clenching around my cock,” When you didn’t answer right away, Sukuna snaked his fingers in your hair, roughly pulling on the strands to toss your head back and expose your neck to him, “Answer me.”

“It’s s’good,” His cock pistoling inside you had your mind scrambled, eyes rolling further back into your head in pleasure.

“Ah, fuck.” Sukuna was enjoying this, enjoying this a bit too much. It had been a least a thousand years since he had sex with a mortal. He forgot how cute they could be, how fragile they are, “That’s it, take my cock, you like being fucked now don’t you? I bet after this a simple man won’t ever be able to satisfy you.”

You quickly found Sukuna’s fingers in your mouth to stop you from making any more noises. You moan around his cold digits, sucking and gliding your tongue along his fingers as if your life depended on it. Sukuna let out a string of profanities, retracting his hips before plunging himself right back into your greedy cunt; groaning softly at the sight of you quivering under his touch.

Sukuna’s hips continuously collided with yours, over and over with a lewd squelch coming from each forceful slam. You whimpered out his name like a soft prayer. Your drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth and down your chin. The pleasure that racked through you had your whole body shaking against his Sukuna’s death grip, you were unable to move, your role was to simply lie there and take whatever he was giving you with no complaints.

Sukuna kept you pinned to the floor, your legs pinned against you so you could watch as his large cock disappeared inside you. You couldn’t believe that it would barely fit before and now you were taking him like a champ, all of him.

"Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

Another orgasm came over you— making you toss your head back with a loud moan as Sukuna continued to thrusts into your tight velvety walls. You didn’t noticed he had flipped you over until you felt you cheek press against the floor and his large tongue attacked your sensitive pussy yet again.

“Oh my god, s-sukuna..” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head at the feeling of him fucking you with his tongue. It felt warm, so warm and inviting that you couldn’t stop your own hips from moving back to meet his sinful ministrations, “Yes..”

“You’re quite enticing for a virgin,” Sukuna licked his lips after he was done eating you out like a man starved. Using two of his free hands, he parted your ass cheeks, spreading you wide open for him so he could easily slide his dick in once again. You winced from the pain, this angle making him just go slightly deeper to the point where you felt a slight budge in your lower abdomen. It has you limp, completely powerless against the King of Curses as he used you like a simple toy, “Why, you’re nothing but a slobbish mess. Is my dick that good, dove? You want me to keep fucking this pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You were crumbling, his name falling off your lips incoherently as he fucked you into another orgasm.

“You ready to take my cum?” Sukuna grunted, feeling his own release nearly reaching its peak. The God sat back against the temple steps, pulling you with him so you were in his lap, your feet on either side of his thighs as his large hands bounced you on his cock with such force it had your mind spiraling. You don’t know which hand it was but one of them found its way to your throat as he fucked you ruthlessly while the others held onto your thighs, forcing you to be still while he pounded up into you, his swollen balls slapping against your ass in the most sinful way, “C’mon woman, tell me you want it,” You shuddered at the feeling of his tongue against your ear, his voice in a cruel whisper.

“I want it.” Your back was against his chest and head on his shoulder as you began to move on your own accord, not even realizing that Sukuna loosened his grip on you.

Sukuna grinned wide, his eyes glinting with mischief. He knew that once he filled your womb you would be bound to him forever, an invisible contract sealing your fate as the mother to his child. You were his now, he owned you in more ways than one— that is what happens when you make a deal with the devil himself.

“I can’t hear you,” He teased, hands moving to cup your full breasts as his sharp teeth grazed your neck.

“I want it!”

“How badly?”

“So, so bad please…cum inside me, Lord Sukuna.”

With those words Sukuna painted your walls white with his load of cum, burying into you to the hilt to ensure that not a single drop would be spilled. You went limp against him, eventually passing out from exhaustion. Sukuna's laughter echoed, a sinister symphony as he gently traced circles on your stomach, foretelling the emergence of his heir.

The King of Curses, now bound by an unsettling promise, sought to give you a life bathed in opulence and liberation—a reward for your courageous surrender, offering both body and mind to bear the weight of his lineage.

Your destinies were now intertwined, a complex tapestry of sacrifice and anticipation. The promise of new life echoes in the air. In nine months on a full moon such as this, a child will enter the world, bearing the legacy of Sukuna. Amidst the shadows of power and ambition, your role is pivotal—a linchpin in a grand design. Sukuna's excitement resonates, not just for his prince, but for a future that hinges on your connection. The gravity of your intertwined fates, a force impossible to escape, draws you deeper into the intricate dance of destiny.

URAVITSY 2024

[tsunagite]

Doodles pt 3

[starlost97]

— last.

summary: You and Arthur were exactly like each other. And as much as this could be good, it was also a problem. (based on the song "cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift)

tags: fluff, personal favorite, Arthur Leclerc is a player, Reader is a player, based on a Taylor Swift song, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: none.

a/n: i'm actually SO proud of this one. like really proud.

word count: 650.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

People said that you and Arthur were the perfect match. Two people with a terrible reputation, never going to their own home after night outs and neverending dating rumors.

However, people didn’t understand it. How could you trust someone so similar to you? You knew very well how untrustworthy you were when it came to love. Always giving out a fake number, leaving before they wake up and not saying anything too personal.

Arthur was exactly like that. Just like you.

But there was something different about him. About his kiss. Sometimes slow, but sometimes so passionate. So torturous but so addicting. You couldn’t get enough of it, and Arthur wished that he couldn’t say the same.

The ghost of your lips on his, the memory of your warmth against his body and the feeling of having you in his arms was something that didn’t stop haunting him since your first night together.

It wasn’t something that he could explain. Not one of his friends could comprehend the effect that you had on Arthur. He knew very well how bad it could go. How you could destroy him.

But as in the myth of Icarus, he couldn’t help but go directly into the sun. The beauty of freedom to him, and the temptation of diving into true love to Arthur.

And if he did fall, it would be in love. He just didn’t know if he would end up in hell.

But hell wouldn't sound so lovely.

As your voice echoed around the room and that heavenly voice brought butterflies to his stomach, he smiled. He could never get used to it. To listening to your voice. To being with you. To you.

“But I said, ‘Dancing is a dangerous game’.”

Arthur’s smile turned into a smirk as he remembered the countless nights they spent dancing. Not only in parties, events, but also alone in each other’s places, being illuminated only by the street lights that invaded their apartments.

God, he loved having his hands on you. Guiding your body to the rhythm of the song and feeling your smile against his lips when he squeezed her waist.

It drove him crazy. Everything about you was maddening. How could you be so perfect? So tempting? So addicting?

Self-preservation left his body and it seemed like it was never there. Vulnerability never gave him comfort, but there was something so erotic about being exposed to you. To someone who could do anything to him, from destroying to making him the happiest man alive. God, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

Your beauty was enough to make him want to watch you do anything. He would’ve loved to be destroyed by you, watch as your pretty little mind created the most perfect of plans to manipulate him.

You for sure had what was necessary to do it. He was completely — and happily — vulnerable.

“Now you hang from my lips,” You sang, looking Arthur in the eyes. “like the Gardens of Babylon.”

Uncertainty. He wanted to take that away from you, but still, there was something beautiful about choosing to trust. All the stakes were against him, but yet, the overwhelming passion was enough to make you vulnerable to him. And that was very much an honor to him.

He was honored to have you entirely.

When you finished the song, Arthur waited for you to come to him, as you always did after the shows. He watched as your figure became clearer, and how the long green dress complimented your skin.

You smiled at him, and that alone could’ve killed him.

“I couldn’t have expressed us in any better way, darling.” He said, pulling you into his lap and looking into your eyes. “You’re my only true love, and also my last.”

You were the only experience of true love that Arthur ever had, and he’ll keep it that way.

[bitter69uk]

On this day 69 years ago (14 September 1955), a promising still mostly unknown 22-year-old rhythm and blues musician calling himself Little Richard (Richard Wayne Penniman) recorded the outrageous landmark rock’n’roll single “Tutti Frutti” at J & M Studio in New Orleans. In his ambitious 2024 book The Secret Public: How LGBTQ Performers Shaped Popular Culture (1955 - 1979), Jon Savage (author of the 1991 tome England’s Dreaming: The Sex Pistols and Punk Rock – a sacred text for me) argues “Tutti Frutti” represents year zero and forensically deconstructs and analyzes the song. “From the first eruption to the final exclamation, “Tutti Frutti” had a harsh, relentlessly driving sound, with an unrestrained vocalist who punctuated the simple lyrics with gospel shrieks and weird outbursts,” Savage writes. “Honed in the dives and drag bars of the American South and informed by his thorough knowledge of the sexual underground, Richard’s lyrics were a deliberate provocation: “Tutti frutti, good booty / If it don’t fit, don’t force it / You can grease it, make it easy …” In the volatile climate of 1955, they were also a barrier to any kind of wider exposure. [Producer Robert] Blackwell knew that a verse about sodomy would create such a storm as to kill both the record and Richard’s career. Substitute lyrics were needed if the record was ever to get a chance of airplay … Riffing off this basic phrase, Richard pounded the piano, yelled, shrieked and testified over just under two and a half minutes, and in doing so opened up the underground that he had inhabited … By early November, “Tutti Frutti” had sold 200,000 copies, entering the R&B charts in the middle of the month at #12. It was the breakthrough sound of freedom, couched in an extreme androgyny. The game was on.”

[sixx6sexx2love]

DATING CHINO MORENO

word count: 408

warnings: drugs mentioned at the end, uhh nothing else i think

hes an enigmatic introvert.

Chino would be a man of few words, often lost in his thoughts. His silence would intrigue you, and you’d spend hours deciphering the emotions hidden behind those dark eyes.

He’d express his feelings through music—lyrics that cut through your soul, melodies that linger long after the song ends.

Chino would be all for cuddling, especially after a long day.

Chino's favorite cuddling positions would likely include:

The classic spooning, with him as the big spoon, enveloping you in his arms, providing a sense of security and warmth.

Lying face-to-face, sharing whispers and soft kisses, enjoying the closeness and the opportunity to gaze into each other's eyes.

Him lying on his back with you resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, while he runs his fingers through your hair, creating a soothing, tranquil moment.

Chino would enjoy using nicknames as a way to express affection and add a personal touch to your relationship. He might come up with unique ones based on inside jokes, your personality traits, or even alterations of your name that only he uses. These nicknames would be a mix of sweet, playful, and even a little quirky.

chino's love language would likely be a mix of Quality Time and Physical Touch. He'd cherish those moments spent together, whether it's diving deep into conversations about music, art, and life, or simply enjoying each other's company in silence. The physical connection would be important to him as well—hugs, kisses, and, of course, cuddling. These gestures show his affection and create a deeper bond between you two. Sharing experiences and physical closeness would be his way of saying "I love you" without always using words.

On a scale of 1 to 10, Chino's level of jealousy would probably hover around a 3. He's confident and secure in himself and his relationships. While he might feel a twinge of jealousy on rare occasions, he trusts you and values open communication over suspicion. He understands the importance of individuality and freedom in a relationship, opting for mutual respect and trust over possessiveness. His laid-back and understanding nature helps maintain a healthy, balanced relationship.

Chino’s struggles with drugs would be a constant backdrop. You’d witness the highs and lows—the euphoria of creativity fueled by substances and the crashing comedowns.

Arguments would flare up, fueled by passion and intensity. But somehow, you’d always find your way back to each other

YOU GUYS WANNA KNOW A SILLY FACT? CHINO LIKES WEARING HIS SOCKS INSIDE OUT BECAUSE THEY FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE TO HIM. HES SUCH A CUTIE.

[brightlilith]

Blue Sea - 1

Mastelist - MCU Mastelist

Blue Sea - Masterlist

Request open Buy me a coffee

Next chapter →

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x retired spy!reader

Summary: Following the events of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes is trying to adapt to a normal life, but is forced to join forces with a retired CIA spy to stop an old enemy seeking revenge. They certainly don't like each other, but they have incredible chemistry.

Warning: Violence, fighting, possible angst and fluff stress, post-traumatic stress, death, messy psychological, and more will be added later.

A/N: Who doesn't love an enemies to lovers? English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors. Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing. Let me know if something is wrong, my dm is always open. kisses💋

Like, comment, and/or reblog I would be very grateful 🩷

The beach stretches out before me, empty and serene. The sun sets on the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and red. The waves gently break on the shore, creating a soothing sound that seems to dance to the rhythm of the wind. Birds gracefully fly over the water, occasionally diving to catch fish. It is a place of tranquility and solitude.

With my eyes closed, I allow myself to get lost in my thoughts, trying to make sense of the things that trouble me. The waves and the wind whisper comforting words, as if trying to console me. I am completely absorbed in my own mind, trying to find answers to difficult questions that continue to torment me.

Suddenly, I am brought back to reality by a familiar voice. I open my eyes to find my therapist, Dr. Raynor, sitting across from me. We are in her office, where there are only two chairs and a simple table between us. The blue walls convey a sense of melancholy that makes me uncomfortable.

I feel pressured and exposed, even though I know the intention is the opposite. The room seems small compared to the vastness of the beach, and the atmosphere is stifling. The presence of my therapist makes me feel vulnerable, and the idea of sharing my deepest thoughts and emotions with her makes me uneasy.

As she starts talking, I try to make myself comfortable in the chair, but the feeling of discomfort persists. As she tries to encourage me to share, I feel like a caged bird, wanting to fly back to the deserted and lonely beach. The room is a contrast to my refuge on the beach, and I long for freedom and open space.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was calm.

"When am I okay?" I lift my head to look at her.

"I don't know, you tell me." She smiles gently.

"Never."

"Are you doing the exercises I mentioned?" she asks.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't need to." I sigh. "I'm fine on my own."

Dr. Raynor stares at me for a few seconds before jotting something down on her clipboard, it's not a good thing I would say, I just sigh and close my eyes trying to go back to the beach, but it didn't work. My phone started ringing, its annoying sound made me want to throw it away.

"You should answer that," she said without taking her eyes off the clipboard.

"I'm fine." I rested my head on the hand that was propped on the arm of the chair.

She looked at me with a quizzical look, sighed, and reached out for the phone.

"It's Sam." She said after I handed her the device.

"Good for him."

"You don't even have 10 contacts here." She scrolled through my phone.

"Maybe because some are dead and others are missing, what can I do?" I replied sarcastically.

"Why are you here, y/n? What is your purpose?

"I'm on probation, and I want to get rid of you." I smirked sardonically.

She looked at me in a way that I understood she would jot that down, but I just shrugged, it wasn't the first time. She handed me the phone back, and when I looked at it, I realized that I had not just one call from Samuel, but several... but the message he sent me caught my attention.

What the fuck.

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

[keelt9]

Chapter 1

Hide And Run 

Masterlist

“Ghost rider 1, ghost rider 1.” No matter how hard I tried still my hands seemed to hold a fucking popsicle slipping between them, it supposed I know what to do, but with the sounds inside of the plane combine with the bellowed voice of Riley make all my actions a complet mess. 

“Y/N! EJECT.” 

“Miss? Are you alright?” The taxi driver asks me as he moves my arm, I open my eyes and realize we are parking in front of my parents house; 19 months and the same nightmare come from time to time.

“Sorry, I’m ok, thanks…” I opened the door not before paying the 15 dollars from the airport to home. I walk through the little garden which my mom built along all these years. She starts it like some kind of stress reliever. She says every deployment or mission from me or my father it’s a new plant in the garden; in my father's case only he and God knows how many missions he had and for me 17 seems a nice number.

“My little butterfly.” My mom said, hugging me in the main door and dad appeared behind her. 

“Sky.” The short name for <Skyhook> I get that call sign in the navy, when she splits away, she puts her hand on my cheek, and I smile with my lips pressed. 

“It’s nice to have you here.” She says and pulls me inside of the house.

As the rest of the day passed without any uncomfortable talks or strange looks, until we finished the dinner and dad and I were doing the dishes. 

“Maybe it is too soon.” The last month was the hardest since the accident and my dad knows that better than anyone; I left the plate in the cabinet, holding it a little bit more than normal. 

“Someone returns in less than a month.” I stop but I force myself to continue. “It’s just a simple test, dad, let’s be honest, with the background I have, maybe I'll fail.” He grabs me by the shoulders and looks straight to my eyes. 

“Y/N think it a little bit more, ok? Just a couple of weeks more.” I take a deep breath, and nod with my head, honestly that idea has been surrounding my head since the big week was scheduled.

-

3:46 hours and counting, is the time my watch the same I’ve been pushing my legs to the limit, but my mind is working at 100 per hour, tomorrow my first test begins, the navy just gave me a one more week, quote <We need you in the air, not in the ground.> I shake my head and continue running.

I was so immersed in my own thoughts when the F-18 dived off along with a little scream for the kids in the park that made my heart stop and flashbacks straight like gunshots in my mind. 

“Mayday!” My fast breathing, the drops of sweat on my face. “I can’t stabilize…” My hands trying to hold the control, the sounds of the overworking in both engines. 

I cover my ears trying to deafen the sounds and when I get to control myself, my watch marks a high rhythm in my heart, the beep helps me to recover, I blink and I see a little girl coming close to me. “Miss, are you alright?” She doesn’t stop liking her ice cream, making me laugh. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, go somewhere fresh or your ice cream will melt faster.” My voice just murmured. It’s a hot Saturday and the summer has just begun, she nods and runs to sit on a bench covered by a tree.

I stop the timer and walk to my father’s car parking in front the main gate of the park, from time to time I lift my sight to the sky, I remember the first time I was in a plane, not a commercial plane, not a light aircraft, but a navy plane, the freedom I felt and the power I thought I had.

For the first time in almost 2 years, I realized that this week would change all I’ve work for more than 8 years, what terrifies me it’s know, in this moment I don’t even sure if continue it’s the right choice. 

The next morning, I woke up around 5 am; the test begins at 08:00 hours at least I have to be in the base around 07:00, I get ready, and at the moment I get down I see my parents getting ready for breakfast. 

“No, it’s not for you.” Dad says before I even complain, they stand up for my test just like they did when I was 6 years old and it was the first day of school. 

“I have an important meeting; I must be ready.” He didn’t even lift his eyes from the newspaper, my mother shakes her head and offers me a cup of tea. 

“Good morning by the way.” I greeted them, my mother giggled when I subtly pointed out his lack of greeting combined with the awful way of hiding his real intentions.

-

“SKY! Hi!” Jill screams when I enter the building. I have known Jill Green (Panther) since we entered the training at Top Gun, something you must know about Jill, she is a cheerful girl, in all the extension of the word.

“Hi, Jill. How are you?” She ran so she could walk along with me. 

“Missing you, it’s not the same since you’re not here, but I heard you have already scheduled a test, isn't it amazing?” I smile, she always makes me smile. 

“Well, let’s find out.” 

My feet were tapping intensely when the vice admiral Beau Simpson opened the door and made me enter his office. 

“Lieutenant, good to see you, please take a seat.” I obey and sit from time to time I apart my sight from him. 

“Well, it’s time, like we already inform you, 1 month of constantly test on the ground and, of course, in the air, after the month, we evaluate you, if you pass, you’ll be deploy in a blink of an eye, if you’re not, well, we have a big problem.” I gulp, he put his hands over the desk. “Sky, you were born to be in the air, one of a kind, just focus…what happened years ago, you must let it go.” I turn my face. “It’s not easy but you’re a strong girl.” With my lack of answer, he stands and takes me to another room.

“The first proof it’s really treating, a psychological one, following for multiple physical ones, strategic, mechanicals and logical.” He stops at the front door and looks straight into my eyes. “Lieutenant, you have been out for more than a year, some tests will pull out the worst and the best from you, what you need to know is, nothing you’ll be going through it’s impossible and you always prove to us that.”

At the end of the first day, all seems to be go a little bit better than expect, with a good mood I was walking to the parking lot where my mother’s car is waiting; she insist at least I should take it for going to the base, she felt more comfortable if she knew I have to be focus to the road instead of the memories been here could bring me back; my steps froze in just a few meter of distance of the entrance, when I see all Dagger Team enter to the building, I meet some of them years ago, with someone I’m really close, but met them right now make my heart beating fast and be really nervous.

I resolve it with the most childish choice, I hide behind the car waiting for them to enter inside the building. 

Great star Sky, hide and run.